room 401
by not a straight trumpet
Summary: A snowstorm leaves the brass section stranded in an abandoned classroom.


**a/n:** about a quarter of the way into writing this i remembered that japan's school year starts in the spring so this is just a freak snowstorm in april i guess? climate change is real kids. happy non-denominational holidays and i hope you had a good 20gayteen

* * *

It had been snowing quite a lot that day, enough that there was chatter of ending school early, but that never came to pass. Not because the snow had stopped - no, quite the contrary. It was because the snow had piled up so quickly that to run the buses, to ask parents to pick up their children, to ask the students themselves to walk home, all of it was much too dangerous. Instead they asked that everyone stay indoors for the time being while the musty heaters were cranked to their maximum settings.

The Kitauji High School's concert band was unsurprisingly disappointed with this.

Taki was unfazed - he acted as such, at least - and told the students they should take the time to practice more in sectionals. He would be catching up on paperwork in the meantime.

So off the band went, splintered as it often was, though Kumiko couldn't help but notice Reina giving the trumpet section the slip as they turned the corner in a hallway. She made a mental note to ask her about that later, once someone had gone through the sidewalks with a plow and piled up all the snow in the grass where it wouldn't inhibit the two of them.

"It's pretty," Satsuki Suzuki whispered, pressing her face to the window as the snow still fell outside. Her breath fogged it up a bit, and she doodled a smiley face in the cloud. Kumiko had gotten to know her and Mirei Suzuki as a unit, and as a result always heard their shared last name (and lack of a shared personality) in her mind.

"It's a nuisance," Mirei Suzuki muttered, clicking her tongue and pushing her hair back. She was taller than Kumiko - meaner, too, could probably beat her in a fight if it ever came to that, but she was also younger and so much of her personality was a front, a shield, barb-wire bubble wrap keeping her out of harm's way. It was nearly admirable, the way Satsuki Suzuki kept trying to push her way in.

It made Kumiko wonder if Reina had ever been so closed off.

"Why aren't we practicing in our normal room, Nakagawa-senpai?" Kanade asked, toddling after Natsuki like a lovelorn puppy. Natsuki spun a ring of keys around her finger, flashing a smirk at the group behind her.

"Some members of the track team got pissed they have to stay indoors so they camped out there, I think they're watching exercise videos or something. Most of the rooms are full, actually." The group reached the stairwell, and Natsuki sighed. "We might have to go to the top floor."

"Nobody's used the top floor in ages," Gotou grunted. Riko nodded in agreement. Tsubumu stared, blankly, at the stairs.

"It's that or go outside and freeze our instruments to our mouths, bud," Natsuki retorted, already making her way up the staircase.

"She's so headstrong," Hazuki whispered in awe. Kumiko had to stifle her laughter.

"You're a heartthrob, y'know," she whispered, sidling up to Natsuki as the rest of the band trailed behind. Natsuki smirked.

"Ya think I'd have it any other way? Someone's gotta pick up Asuka-senpai's mantle." The stairwell went quiet all of a sudden, and Kumiko looked down at her feet, focusing on the trampled-down patch of gum someone had stuck on one of the stairs. "Shit. Sorry."

"It's, uh, it's fine. Let's find a room."

* * *

As it turned out, most of the top floor was occupied, too. There was just one empty room - dusty as anything, with a door handle that stuck and packed chock-full of junk from other clubs. A rack of costumes sat in one corner, while half-deflated volleyballs dejectedly waited in flimsy cardboard boxes.

"This looks like the place where high school clubs come to _die,"_ Mirei Suzuki deadpanned.

"Don't say that, Mirei-chan!" Satsuki Suzuki squeaked. She wasn't unlike Midori, Kumiko had noticed, every bit as tiny and every bit as persistent, hefting her giant tuba under her arm like it was a suitcase.

"She's not wrong." Natsuki flipped on a light, and it didn't do much to make the room seem homier. It was more of a storage closet than anything, really. A piano of all things sat in the center. "The acoustics are gonna _suck."_

"We can't slack off!" Midori suddenly blurted out. "Otherwise we'll just repeat the past, and nobody wants that!"

"Midori-chan's right!" Hazuki set down her tuba to hang off of her friend's arm.

"I mean, practice is already over," Mirei Suzuki retorted, distantly staring out the window. "This is overtime as far as I'm concerned."

"Like looking into a mirror, isn't it?" Riko told Natsuki, smiling that ever-present sweet smile of hers.

"I was never like that," Natsuki grunted.

"Sure you weren't."

"Fine, fine." Natsuki undid her ponytail and ran her fingers through her hair, strutting to the other end of the room. "Nothing's getting done today, obviously, so we're gonna go through our section _one more time_ and then ya can, I dunno, play games or whatever." She plucked a top hat off of the costume rack and placed it on her head. "Might as well have fun with it if we're trapped here for the rest of the night."

"You really think it'll take that long?!" Hazuki yelped.

"What if the power goes out?!" Midori fretted. Satsuki Suzuki clung to Mirei Suzuki for dear life.

"It won't, shut up, play your pieces." Natsuki collapsed onto a chair, top hat dipping over her eyes. "Geez, Asuka-senpai made this crap look easy."

"She did, huh?" Kumiko looked out the window, wondered idly if she would ever see snow again without thinking of _her._ Probably not, in all honesty.

Probably not.

* * *

Kumiko had never known any of the apathetic third-years who'd driven Nozomi and Mizore apart, who'd nearly destroyed the band, but she knew Natsuki and Riko and Gotou were all thinking of them as the bass section halfheartedly played.

"We'll be fine," Kumiko whispered, twirling her fingers around each other. Natsuki watched Kanade struggle with a Monopoly board and frowned.

"Ya don't sound convinced," she said. The top hat suited her.

"W-what if things go badly this year? We lost Kaori-senpai and Haruka-senpai and-"

"Don't ya think I know that already?" she growled. Kumiko flinched. Natsuki pressed her fingers to her temples, squeezing her eyes shut. She looked tired, dapper, displaced in time. Kanade and Hazuki turned to look at her for a moment before turning back to setting up the game, gazes dropped to the carpet. "I'm not a natural leader, alright? I'm not like Asuka-senpai. I can't get shit in order like she could. I'm no superwoman and everyone knows it."

"You miss her too, huh?"

"Who doesn't?" Natsuki barked out a sharp laugh, quick and bitter. This time the whole band looked at her, and she stood up to continue. "I'm hardly _awake_ half the time. I'm not grandiose, I'm not loud. I talk like a punk. Ya couldn't find someone less like Asuka-senpai if ya _tried._ That's just it. And you four never met her." At this, she jabbed a finger towards the Suzukis trying on fake feather boas, towards Kanade reading her songbook again, towards Tsubumu silently counting the Monopoly money. "So I'm all you've got."

"I don't know if it counts for anything, Nakagawa-senpai," Kanade murmured, unblinking red eyes focused right on Natsuki, "-but I think you're doing a fine job." The room went silent, then, ten students surrounded by dead clubs, and Natsuki smiled.

"Thanks, kid," she said. "Now, let's have a good time, eh? This might be the closest thing to a snow day we get this year."

* * *

"Right hand blue!" Hazuki called out, Monopoly long forgotten. Midori whimpered in misery.

"My arm's not long enough for that!" she cried, wobbling in place. Natsuki sat beside Hazuki, citing a "lack of physical flexibility." Kumiko suspected her motives were slightly different.

"You have to keep going, Midori-chan!" Hazuki cheered. "It's the rule of the game!"

"The rule of the game _hurts!"_

"I think it hurts me more," Mirei Suzuki deadpanned, tangled in a shaky heap with Riko and Satsuki Suzuki and Kumiko. Kanade provided a soundtrack in the corner, the melody of her euphonium filling up the room. It'd be something that caused Kumiko worry later on, certainly, and it'd worry Natsuki too, but for now it was just snowing and they were just kids and everything was simple.

"Is Kumiko here?"

This was of course the moment that the girl who made everything the opposite of simple opened the door, cheeks pink from the winds, trumpet in her hand. For a second Kumiko thought she'd been practicing in the cold, but then she realized Reina's lips would freeze to the trumpet and she would be smarter than that. She was reckless, sure, not particularly concerned with her own well-being when it came to things such as high heels on a mountain and confrontations with upperclassmen, but she was also meticulous, planned. Kumiko had always liked to think their date - was that what she could call it? - had been spontaneous, but it was too perfect for that. Reina had an app for a flashlight and a white dress turned blue in the moonlight and she knew just what it would do to her and-

"Taki-sensei said that they're plowing the roads, but my street's out of power. Some fallen tree felled a telephone pole." She turned her violet gaze to Kumiko and cocked her head to the side. She'd have fallen over if it weren't for Satsuki Suzuki's left leg wrapped around her own. "Could I stay over at yours for tonight?"

"O-of course, Reina!" Kumiko babbled. Natsuki grinned. "Definitely."

"So I guess that means we're free to go home?" Hazuki piped up. Midori collapsed to the slick mat.

"Thank the heavens!"

"It does," Reina said, offering Kumiko a hand. Natsuki winked at her, taking off the top hat and giving a bow. Kumiko's cheeks hurt from how much she was smiling, and silently she resolved to ask Natsuki about practicing in this room more often. It was dusty, and it had terrible acoustics and too many board games, but it was cozy and imperfect and not all that bad, really.

It wasn't that bad at all.

* * *

 **a/n:** most of this fic came from the mental image of natsuki in a top hat and also a need to get the hang of writing the new kiddos before finale oath in april. hope y'all enjoyed!


End file.
